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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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Story for Christmas. 
The two timid children stood spell-bound — " What a Christmas Eve ! " p. 9. 



fllffi-pil moths: 



Christmas, Good Friday, 
EASTER. 



Ascension, Whitsuntide. 



TEAU8LATED BY 

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THIS BOOK 

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Christmas 



CHEISTMAS EVE IN THE WOODS. 

I DO not doubt, my dear children, that 
you all agree with me, that no day in 
all the year is more welcome than the one 
on which we say " This is Christmas Eve !" 
You, who live in the towns, tell me if the 
first glance from the window on that morn- 
ing, is not most delightful ? Do not all the 
houses in the long rows stand in a pleasant, 
mysterious quiet? Within each window, 
is a joyful expectation of Christmas. Be- 
hind each closed door some wonderful 
secret preparation is in progress. 

3 



4 CHRISTMAS. 

Where our eyes can discover nothing, 
there imagination is most busy; and in all 
things which usually pass quite unnoticed, 
children's bright, curious gaze is sure, to- 
day, to discover some great mystery. If the 
good God has clothed the earth in a white 
winter garment, it seems to us on that 
morning, purer and fairer than usual ; and 
if the glorious sunshine scatters its thou- 
sands of pearls and diamonds upon it, then, 
indeed, it shines as clear and brilliant as 
the light of joy which the anticipation of 
Christmas calls up in your young hearts. 
At home, nothing but secrets. Here a mys- 
terious room ; there a significantly closed 
cupboard. Turn your eyes out of doors, 
children; pass away the time until the 
pleasant evening hour, by looking out of 
the windows. 

Indeed, much may be seen outside ; for 
outside is the whole world, and in the 
whole world to-day is Christmas Eve. 



CHRISTMAS EVE IN" THE WOODS. 5 

With what busy haste every one in the 
street goes in and out, backward and for- 
ward. Is there not something peculiar 
in the very sound of the doors as they 
quickly open and close, and of the rapid 
footsteps that enter and depart from them? 
Do not all faces glow with unusual eager- 
ness ; a smile full of hope and of promise ? 
Ah! happy children, you read everywhere 
to-day, " This is Christmas Eve." 

Perhaps the thought has scarcely ever 
occurred to you that there are children m 
the world to whom this day brings no 
pleasure; for in your joyous imagination 
you light up a Christmas tree for every 
one, and fancy your own happiness poured 
into all hearts. Know, then, that Christ- 
mas brings sorrow, as well as joy; hear 
a tale of Christmas Eve — beautiful, yet 
mournful. 

Ah, it is true, that not all enjoy this 
blessed season ! Many, many children 



6 CHRISTMAS. 

there are, for whom no Christmas tree is 
ever lighted; and many for whose eyes its 
beauties shine, while to their hearts it 
brings no pleasure. I will tell you first 
of these, that you may realize, if you can, 
the sad truth that there are children with- 
out childlike pleasures, and brilliant Christ- 
mas trees, by which no heart grows warm. 
Leopold and Elmina, like most young 
people on Christmas Eve, stood looking 
out of the windows. They were the chil- 
dren of a wealthy and distinguished cit- 
izen; some counsellor, perhaps, whose 
stately house, like its owner, bore itself 
proudly among its more humble neighbors. 
Leopold and Elmina were, indeed, waiting 
for the evening. But the hours seemed 
long and tedious to them ; for the holy sig- 
nificance of the Christmas festival had no 
power over their hearts, and they took 
little pleasure even in their fine gifts, be- 



CHRISTMAS EYE IN THE WOODS. 7 

cause they could enjoy such things every 
day. 

At such Christmas gatherings, in so 
many wealthy families, it seems to be the 
only concern of those who call themselves 
the friends of the children, to vie with 
each other in overloading them with fash- 
ionable, but useless articles ; which gifts, 
on the succeeding days, are always criti- 
cized and compared with scrutinizing eyes. 
In compliance with this custom the coun- 
sellor never failed at Christmas to fill a 
large room for his children with costly 
gifts, which in the evening were illumina- 
ted with a flood of light. Yet these rich 
children were probably, of all in the city, 
the poorest in happiness; they thought 
the old custom of the evening surprise an 
extremely disagreeable one, for how should 
they pass the long hours of the day? 

They had eaten Christmas cakes all the 
morning, in consequence of which they were 



8 CHRISTMAS. 

uncomfortable and quite out of humor. 
For half an hour, now, Leopold had found 
no amusement, save that of making faces 
at every passer-by who happened to glance 
at the lofty dwelling, while Elmina de- 
voted herself to the cruel pastime of pluck- 
ing a feather every few moments from a 
poor screaming parrot* Suddenly the boy 
cried out : 

"Oh, look at these dirty little creatures; 
how saucily they peep in here, without 
being at all ashamed of their rags. In- 
deed, I do believe they want to come in." 

This diverted Elmina's attention from 
the tormented bird, to the poor children 
in the street. It was a brother and sis- 
ter, Anthony and Marietta ; who, in old, 
worn-out clothing, wandered along shiver- 
ing with cold — two of those destitute lit- 
tle ones who have no Christmas tree lighted 
up for them. 

" Listen, they are coming in," said Leo- 



CHRISTMAS EVE IN" THE WOODS. 9 

pold. "I heard the door-bell ring; that 
will be a Christmas show such as we never 
had here before." 

The two timid children were indeed 
already standing in the magnificent en- 
trance hall ; they had come in to sing a 
Christmas carol, but before their poor 
white lips could commence the song, some- 
thing happened to fill their childish hearts 
with grief. 

"A very rich lord must live here, don't 
you think so ? " softly asked the little girl 
of her brother, who was somewhat older 
than she; "see how beautiful everything 
is ; they will surely have a little gift to 
spare us. Anthony," she cried, with 
sudden delight, "look, here is a door open ; 
what elegant things are in that room ! 
What a Christmas Eve ! that grand tree 
with all those candles ; if we could only 
see them lighted!" And so saying, she 
drew her brother involuntarily to the half- 



10 CHRISTMAS. 

open door of the large parlor, where the 
gifts of Leopold and Elmina were prepared 
for the evening surprise. 

The children could not resist the temp- 
tation to step in, and the brilliant sight 
held them spell-bound. Marietta had al- 
most devoutly folded her hands, while 
Anthony humbly removed his cap ; then, 
after looking at the grand display for a 
few moments with eager, sparkling eyes, 
the little sister drew a long sigh of admira- 
tion, and said: 

"Ah, brother, some children whom 
Christ loves very much, must live in this 
house I" 

But their admiration was suddenly in- 
terrupted by a movement at the door, and 
a harsh voice behind them calling out, 
"Catch the little thieves!" 

The children uttered a cry of terror, and 
darted out into the hall, where they found 
themselves surrounded by all the servants, 



CHRISTMAS EYE IN THE WOODS. 11 

who had hurried up at the alarm. The 
counsellor himself ran out of his room, 
and called out angrily to the children : 

"What are you doing here ? What mis- 
chief have you done ? What wickedness 
led you into that room?" 

Marietta could not speak for crying, 
but Anthony said humbly : 

" We beg pardon, good sir ; we came in 
because we were hungry, and we hoped 
for a little Christmas gift, and we went 
into that room," he added, hesitating, as 
the memory of the words "You little 
thieves" called a deep flush to his cheeks, 
"we went into that room, good sir, to see 
the beautiful things ; but indeed, indeed, 
not to take them." "Ah," he said, in a low, 
devout tone, " could we so grieve the holy 
Saviour to-day, who made us so happy 
last Christmas?" 

"Enough, enough, you shameless little 
rascal," snarled the counsellor; "you 



12 CHRISTMAS. 

saucy beggars are all alike ; one must be 
careful to keep you outside of his doors. 
The poor-taxes are heavy enough now-a- 
days for a man to enjoy at least a little 
peace in his house." 

So saying, the rich man turned his back 
on the poor children. Anthony and Ma- 
rietta moved toward the door, but behind 
them sprang out a bad boy ; it was Leo- 
pold, who, with his sister, had watched 
for their going out, armed with his whip, 
that he might amuse himself by chasing 
the poor children with it. But the blow 
he aimed at them did not reach them. A 
compassionate servant quickly closed the 
door behind them. The rich children 
laughed mockingly, and the poor ones 
again stood outside. Alone, outside in the 
cold, cold world, in which to-day was 
Christmas Eve. 

"Anthony," said Marietta, in a low 
voice, "let us not go among rich people 



CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE WOODS. 13 

again to-day. I do not believe the holy 
Saviour lives where they have so many 
fine things." 

H: :|: £ ' $ £ £ 

"Could we so grieve the holy Saviour 
to-day, who made us so happy last Christ- 
mas ?" 

These were the words the rich man had 
heard with unmoved heart ; yet in them 
was contained all the history of these poor 
children. Yes, on the last Christmas, they 
had had, though not a grand tree, yet still 
a little one, beautiful to them, for a moth- 
er s tender love had lighted it up. Frau 
Magdalene had added so many nights to 
her days of ceaseless labor, that she had 
earned a few shillings to spend on a Christ- 
mas treat for her children. And how 
happy she was when she had lighted up 
the little tree with its three candles, lay- 
ing under it a warm garment and a gay 
pictured Bible for each, with a few spice- 



14 CHRISTMAS. 

nuts. But this was Frau Magdalene's 
last indulgence. On that very Christmas 
Eve, while singing with her children the 
Hymn to the Saviour, she felt an irresisti- 
ble longing, as though her spirit were 
drawn heavenward. Only a few weeks 
from that time, she was laid in the grave, 
and Anthony and Marietta were alone in 
the world. 

They were taken from their own home 
and sent to board with a man who asked 
but little for taking care of them, because 
he did less — that is, nothing, for them ; 
for at night they slept in a cold, dark 
room, and during the day he sent them 
out to beg. It was, indeed, a wicked, 
drunken man, to whose care the unfortu- 
nate little orphans had been intrusted. 
Even on this Christmas Eve they were 
obliged to wander in the cold streets, while 
he drank and gambled at the tavern. 

"Whither should they go now ? " Little 



CHRISTMAS EYE IN THE WOODS, 15 

thieves!'' seemed to ring in their ears, 
whenever they approached a house-door, 
and, timid and fearful, they turned away. 

"Come, little sister," said Anthony at 
last; "do not look so sad. It is Christ- 
mas Eve everywhere in the world to-day, 
and not only where rich people live ; it is 
Christmas Eve for us too." 

Further and further, they went silently 
on, till at last the little girl asked : 

"What do you think, Anthony; which 
way shall we go ? " 

"Out of the town, I think," answered 
the brother ; "it will soon be evening, and 
then it will be bright enough in the houses, 
but dark in the streets, and darker still 
in our cold room. Outside of town we 
shall have the broad sky, full of starlight, 
and a road through the woods leads to 
the farm where the good countryman lives 
who used sometimes to send mother some 
soup, when she was sick ; perhaps he will 



16 CHRISTMAS. 

give us a warm little corner to sleep in 
to-night." 

So the children passed out of town. 
Little Marietta looked back now and then, 
for she fancied that she already saw lights 
burning here and there, the bright Christ- 
mas candles. But Anthony never turned ; 
he only sought the road that led into the 
woods, and there before him it lay, white 
and glittering, under a hard frozen snow. 
The twilight now began to be cheered by 
the light of the stars, only a few, at first, 
coming softly into view ; but directly they 
sparkled brightly forth, quickly lighting 
up all the sky. 

" See, there are our Christmas lights," 
said the brother, smiling cheerfully as he 
looked upward. Oh, how beautiful was 
everything in the woods ! All the trees 
were clothed in white ; every little twig 
bearing shining points which glistened like 
gold. 



CHRISTMAS EYE IN THE WOODS. 17 

" They are lighting up the Christmas 
trees for the children now/' said Marietta, 
turning for a last look at the town ; but 
in vain, for the windings of the road con- 
cealed it from her. 

"Yes; but see here/' said Anthony, 
pointing to the shining trees in the wood. 
And now suddenly they found themselves 
standing before a marvelous sight, that 
glittered with rainbow colors ; it was the 
wood-brook, where it rolled from the 
mountain side, and stiffened under the icy 
breath of Winter. 

There it remained hanging from twigs 
and stones in manifold beautiful forms ; 
pearls, and points of hard crystal ; each 
tiny drop reflecting the varied light of 
manv stars. Never did Christmas table 
shine more beautifully. And above hung 
the silvered twigs of the fir tree, to which 
the heavens themselves had lent their 
light. It seemed as though the stars had 



18 CHRISTMAS. 

come down to burn there as Christmas 
candles for the poor children. They stood, 
as if dazzled, before all this wondrous 
beauty. 

"But, brother," Marietta exclaimed, 
"we have turned out of the road." 

"Do you not see," he answered, still 
smiling as if with some deep, heartfelt 
joy, "that we are to keep Christmas too? 
I knew that the Christ-child would not 
forget to prepare it for us. It is for this 
we have come into the woods ; in my heart 
I saw all this before." 

And then he began to talk very earn- 
estly to his little sister of all the glorious 
things he seemed to see in the mysterious 
brightness of the woods. Then the chil- 
dren were very, very happy. Marietta, 
too, saw with simple, childlike faith, all 
the lovely shapes and wonders her broth- 
er's words described, and their trusting 
young hearts celebrated Christmas Eve 



CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE WOODS. 19 

with more joy and blessedness than, per- 
haps, could be found elsewhere in the 
world. 

Nor did they now forget that sweet 
Christmas carol which, last year, their 
mother had sung with them. They folded 
their hands, looked up to heaven through 
the parted branches above them, and sang 
with soft, happy voices, their hymn to the 
holy Saviour. The night seemed to grow 
brighter, and ever brighter, and the chil- 
dren fancied they heard a thousand silvery 
voices joining in their song, while the Star 
of Bethlehem shone above them. Then 
Marietta felt tired, and rested against her 
brother ; who, with his still, cheerful face, 
was leaning against the trunk of a tree. 

"I could sleep," said the little girl, "if 
I only had a bed." 

"Come," said Anthony, throwing his 
arm around his little sister, " the infant 
Christ had no better one in the manger, 



20 CHRISTMAS. 

and afterward, you know, He had not 
where to lay His head. Kest your little 
head on my bosom and sleep sweetly, for 
it is Christmas Eve." Then they both 
sat silent; once when Marietta moved, 
her brother asked : 

"Do you feel cold?" 

"No," she answered, "but the ground 
is hard." 

"Think of the mangerj" said the boy. 

And the children both went peacefully 
to sleep. But during the night, God's 
loving hand spread a pure, dazzling cover 
of snow over the earth, under which the 
Christmas lights and their young lives 
passed quietly away. 

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Perhaps, dear children, you will not be 
willing to follow me again into the great 
town, which was such a solitary waste for 
the poor orphans, notwithstanding its 
many Christmas trees, its wealthy people, 



CHRISTMAS EYE IN THE "WOODS. 21 

and its magnificent gifts. But I should 
like to tell you how the rich children, 
Leopold and Elmina, spent their Christ- 
mas, that you might pity them as I do. 

On that Christmas Eve they received 
more presents than could be found in 
any other house in town, and their parlor 
was lighted by so many candles that one 
large fir tree could not hold them all. 

But all this rich Christmas, could not 
make the children happy. They looked 
pale under the light of the Christmas 
candles, and turned wearily away from 
their surfeit of presents. They both sat, 
resting their heads upon their hands, 
chilled through, and complaining that the 
room was not light enough, and when 
they were found to be sick, and were put 
to bed, they talked in a strange, rambling 
manner. They imagined themselves wan- 
dering in a vast forest, where gigantic trees 
were stretching their long arms after them, 
and complained of lying in cold beds of 



22 CHRISTMAS. 

ice and snow, for they were shaking with 
severe chills. 

I cannot tell you much more about 
them. Once since that Christmas Eve, I 
have heard it remarked that there were 
but few happy days in the counsellor's 
house; at which I do not wonder very 
much. 

But the children in the woods slumbered 
sweetly, until the Spring sun had kissed 
away the snow which lay upon them. 
Then very soon blossoms and leaves sprang 
up there, so tall and luxurious, that they 
rested well beneath them. Snow and 
flowers, alternately, made their grave, and 
v never did mortal eye discover the place of 
their repose, by the wood-fountain. 

But if you ask me who, then, beside 
them knew of the lovely Christmas Eve 
in the woods, I will tell you only — the 
angels. 



Good-Friday. 



THE LITTLE GARDEN OF THE CEOSS. 

IN the southern part of the German 
Fatherland, where steep rocks tower 
above delightful valleys, and rapid 
streams wind like silvery ribbons through 
the landscape, a little village lay concealed 
among the mountains. 

Near this mountain-girt village was 
a small cottage, sheltered by an over- 
hanging precipice, and shaded by the 
leafy roof of a large elm. It was probably 
the smallest and least pretentious dwell- 

23 



24 GOOD FRIDAY. 

ing in the place, — yet it is thither, my 
dear children, that I would lead you. 

Father Holbert, the joiner, lived there 
with his five children, the dearest treasure 
he had on earth, since as he said, the 
Lord had called his faithful wife Martha 
home. It was these children who made 
their little home, scantily furnished as it 
was, and scarcely able to boast anything 
of value, so bright and gay, — they, with 
their five blooming faces, their rosy, laugh- 
ing cheeks, and happy eyes. 

My story, however, relates but little to 
the cottage itself; rather to the little gar- 
den which lay before it, which one would 
scarcely have regarded as belonging to a 
poor man, for there besides the joyful in- 
crease bestowed on all through His rain 
and His sunshine, God granted a special 
blessing on humble, pious diligence. In 
this garden might be seen the evidences 
of order, sobriety and faithful care ; but 




Story for Good Friday. 
The symbol of His sufferings, p. 25. 



THE LITTLE GARDEN OF THE CROSS. 25 

why Father Holbert tended it with most 
particular love, I must tell you ; — as well 
as the reason for its name : 

" The little garden of the cross." 
You well know, my dear children, what 
is our richest treasure. What we bear in 
our hearts through life, and what is our 
"comfort in life and in death." It is the 
Cross, — the death of the cross which our 
Lord Jesus suffered for us. He has indeed 
gone back unto the glory of His Father. 
But His cross remains with us, the symbol 
of His suffering, by which He bore the pen- 
alty of our sins, and for the sake of which 
He is ever ready to remove our guilt, 
when we look up to the Crucified, and 
pray in His name, " Forgive us our debts !" 
There is then in all the world no symbol 
higher, holier, or more beautiful than that 
of the love of God's only Son crucified; 
none before which we shed more heartfelt 
tears; — none before which we find self 



26 GOOD FRIDAY. 

more abased; while yet there is none 
which symbolizes to the soul such blessed 
hope and confidence. For He who died 
on that cross for us, is ready to make us 
also the children of God. 

This firm faith, this cherished hope, 
abode in Father Holbert's heart; and so 
it was, that of all his earthly possessions, 
he valued none so highly as a wooden 
symbol of the Crucified Saviour. 

This had been left him by his father, 
who had also been a joiner. The father 
was acknowledged to have been a skillful 
workman ; and this figure, which he had 
made, though to artistic eyes imperfect, 
was still sufficient to awaken the warm 
love and prayers of a faithful heart. So 
this wooden cross was ever regarded as 
the most sacred possession of the family, 
a remembrance of the love of God, in the 
grace of which they were born, and in the 
comfort of which they hoped to die. 



THE LITTLE GARDEN OF THE CROSS. 27 

But the cottage was too narrow and 
mean, too dark and poor, to receive this 
treasure; at least thus thought the pious 
man ; so he gave it some finishing touches, 
chose a place for it in his garden, and 
built above it a little protecting roof. 

There it stood, and for its sake, Fa- 
ther Holbert and the children tended the 
garden with constant and peculiar care. 
It was a thing well known, also, in the 
village, where Master Holbert, notwith- 
standing his poverty, was very highly 
esteemed ; and the villagers often trod the 
narrow, rough, road that led to his dwell- 
ing, that they might glance at the bloom- 
ing little garden, and the cross which 
stood there, before which, as is the custom 
in Roman Catholic countries, they would 
then make the Christian sign. 

It was Good Friday, and all on earth 
was still. No fires burned on the hearths ; 
no frolicsome children shouted before the 



28 GOOD FRIDAY. 

doors ; even in the churches, the sound of 
bells and of organ music was not heard. 
The very Spring winds, which usually 
came rushing and resounding over the 
earth, rejoicing in the new life which they 
bore upon their wings, seemed to-day 
more quiet. The mountain streams whis- 
pered softly down, and the wood-birds 
were hushed in their nests. The " Garden 
of the cross" stood arrayed in silent, 
solemn 'beauty. Primroses and imperial 
lilies displayed their glowing colors in the 
sunlight, and many of their lovely sisters 
were breaking from their swelling buds. 

On this day, in token of their love for 
the dear Saviour, Father Holbert's chil- 
dren came to plant at the foot of the cross, 
the most choice and beautiful things they 
could find in their flower-beds, that there 
they might grow green and blossom, and 
bring their names in gracious remem- 
brance before the Lord. 



THE LITTLE GARDEN OF THE CROSS. 29 

First came the dark-eyed, warm-hearted 

little Gertrude, bearing a rose-branch, 

whose large, rich flowers should look up 

to the cross like eyes full of the depth 

and ardor of love. 

Elizabeth, her gentle and thoughtful sis- 
ter, planted forget-me-not, that its blue, 
pleading eyes might express the prayer 
its name signifies. 

The brothers Gottlieb and Treumund 
brought lilies and rosemary, emblems of 
the innocence of the Son of God, and the 
sufferings of His people. And all these 
were planted around the sacred shrine. 

Only Rudhelm, the youngest, had no- 
thing to bring from his little flower-bed, 
for it lay waste, and covered with weeds7 
he was a wild, rude boy, who had no love 
for the gentle care of flowers. So he 
planted a slip of ivy, which, with dar- 
ing courage, he had brought down from a 
steep precipice among the mountains ; but 



30 GOOD FRIDAY 

it seemed scarcely probable that this 
shoot, torn from the bare rock, would take 
root and thrive down here in the valley. 

Father Holbert looked with thankful- 
ness, and with a silent prayer, upon his 
children ; from his heart, he exclaimed, 
" Lord, I bless thee !" but added, " For 
Thou wilt not that any of Thy creatures 
should be lost;" — while his gaze rested 
upon Eudhelm, whose stubborn disposi- 
tion had already become a sore trouble to 
his father. 

I can tell you but little of the years 
which, after this Good Friday, followed 
one another over the valley and little 
town, — over Father Holbert's family and 
the " Garden of the cross." Those years 
were all much alike. Spring came, cloth- 
ing everything with verdure. Autumn 
winds swept by, and left all bare again. 
Winter strewed snow-flakes over the 
mountains. 



THE LITTLE GARDEN" OF THE CROSS. 31 

All the children had grown up. 
Gertrude and Elizabeth were gentle, plea- 
sant maidens, whose care made the little 
home comfortable, whose love brightened 
the fireside. Gottlieb and Treumund were 
apt, willing boys, their father's aids in his 
labors ; and all were cheerful, loving chil- 
dren, the joy of his heart. And when 
each had done his part, then all looked 
devoutly to Heaven and prayed, u For- 
give us our debts !" for their faith in the 
sin-atoning Love, was what made their 
daily work " holy and acceptable to the 
Lord." 

Only still with Rudhelm, the wild 
Rudhelm, it was not thus ; the more earn- 
estly the entreaties of love were pressed 
upon him, the more resolutely his heart 
seemed closed against them; and when 
his father found it his duty to use severity 
towards him, the ungovernable boy would 
rush out among the turbulent children of 



32 GOOD FRIDAY. 

the village, or away into the lonely moun- 
tain ravines, where nature was as rough 
and irregular as his untamed spirit. From 
these fool-hardy excursions he would often 
return with torn clothes and wounded 
limbs, but only to spurn the loving anx- 
iety with which his father and sisters 
warned him against his evil course. 

For a long time, the little village had 
seemed unnoticed by the world, and its 
peaceful inhabitants had not felt this to 
be a misfortune. They went to a neigh- 
boring town, from time to time, to pur- 
chase the necessaries of life, but ever 
brought back with them their wonted love 
for their own humble home. The valley 
was not always to continue in such quiet. 

For some time, strangers had visited 
the place, whose savage countenances, 
heavy beards, and unusual language in- 
spired the villagers with no small fear. 
There were, indeed, those who lent a will- 



\ 



THE LITTLE GARDEN OF THE CROSS. 33 



ing ear to the conversation of these strange 
men, for they spoke of a golden future, 
when all should be fortunate, and wealth 
should abound. But there was so much of 
fire and bloodshed, so much hatred and 
blasphemy, mingled with their fine 
promises, that the better class of people 
turned from them, shaking their heads, 
unable to put the least faith in their 
golden prophecies. 

Among those who soon became intimate 
with the strangers, was, alas ! Rudhelm ; 
and before very long, he could not be 
contented without their company. This 
made poor Father Holbert's hair turn 
• gray with sorrow, for he well understood 
that these were godless men who despised 
the Commandments of the Lord, and 
whose actions were an abomination in His 
sight ; and that their talk of freedom and 
brotherhood meant only robbery and 
murder. The father's house ceased to be 



34 GOOD FRIDAY. 

Rudhelm's home and shelter; he was seen 
only with these dangerous companions, 
and at last, he was gone, no one knew 
whither ; and burning tears fell on Father 
Holbert's wasted cheeks, if any one 
chanced to inquire after his youngest 
son. 

In the village, every thing was much 
changed. Here and there in the streets, 
one might always see little groups of 
people, telling each other of the fearful 
things they had heard were going on in 
the world : and before long, their hearts 
were filled with sorrow and mourning by 
a summons which called the young men 
to arms. Gottlieb and Treumund had 
to go as soldiers, and Elizabeth, who had 
for several years been the wife of a good 
young peasant, must also part with her 
husband. She went home with her two 
little children to Father Holbert and her 
sister Gertrude, in the little cottage under 



THE LITTLE GARDEN OF THE CROSS. 35 

the old elm-tree, u close to the dear cross 
of Christ/' she said, and wiped her gentle 
blue eyes. 

Then came times of great distress to 
the humble village. The fearful reports 
that had reached the people, of wild 
hordes of men who were carrying fire, 
robbery, and bloodshed through the land, 
were only too true, and not even this 
secluded valley could escape its share of 
the tumult of war. Many cottages were 
burned down, — many grain-fields tram- 
pled by horses' hoofs : no such trouble 
had yet befallen Father Holbert, and the 
belief was current among the villagers, 
that God protected his home for the sake 
of his little "garden of the cross." 

But far more bitter sorrow awaited him; 
sorrow that almost broke the poor father's 
heart. Only a few weeks after his sons 
had left him, a party of soldiers passed 
through the place, who brought to him 



36 GOOD FRIDAY. 

the last greeting of his Gottlieb, who had 
fallen near Freiburg; and some time 
later, as some wagons were passing, laden 
with the severely wounded, a friendly 
neighbor who had been standing by the 
road, came to him and said, with sympa- 
thizing tears : 

"Have courage, friend Holbert, it is 
the Lord who orders all for thee. I must 
tell thee that I saw thy Treumund on one 
of those wagons." Not a word did the old 
man speak ; but that night, when the 
moon rose, he was not in the cottage; 
and his daughters knew that he passed 
the night in his little garden. 

The evil and mischief in the world 
seemed without end or limit. It was as 
if hell had poured forth evil spirits, to 
lead men astray, and to make them waste 
and destroy one another in their wild 
fury. Not a few of the brave sons of the 
land, the valiant defenders of law and 



THE LITTLE GARDEN OF THE CROSS. 37 

s order in their country's service, fell, as 
had Gottlieb and Treunmnd, victims of 
this unhallowed civil war. At last, many 
who had been led astray by those evil, 
rebellious spirits, came to their senses, and 
perceived the wicked arts which had en- 
ticed them: and now their short-lived 
rage against law and authority, turned 
into bitter revenge against the men whose 
magnificent promises had betrayed them 
into wretchedness and misery. They 
were ready a thousand times to curse 
them ; and in all the mountain country, 
there was scarcely a place where young 
and old did not take up arms against the 
rebels, who had called themselves the 
friends of the people. It was necessary, 
indeed, that they should defend their 
homes and property, for robbery and vio- 
lence marked the freebooters' course, and 
not even the infant in its cradle was 
spared. No rumor was so fearful as that 



38 GOOD FRIDAY. 

of their approach. All who were weak 
and defenceless fled before them, leaving 
the strong and able to take vengeance on 
the traitors. 

Our little village, already so severely 
visited by the troubles of war, was several 
times thrown into confusion by reports of 
the advance of a band of outlaws ; each 
time women and children fled and hid 
themselves in the mountains, until the 
alarm proved to be false. One day shots 
were heard among the mountains, and 
again resounded the terrible cry, " Free- 
booters ! freebooters ! " This time it was, 
indeed, true; far down in the valley waved 
the red flag, and whoever refused to fol- 
low it, they had heard, would be horribly 
butchered. Again women, children, and 
old men fled ; among the rest went Ger- 
trude and Elizabeth, with the little chil- 
dren. 

Father Holbert had given them his bless- 



THE LITTLE GARDEN OF THE CROSS. 39 

ing and bidden them go ; but no entreaties 
could move him to flight ; calm as ever, 
he gazed on the setting sun, whose rays 
gilded the little garden and the holy shrine. 
Then he closed the cottage door ; and with 
the sound of gun-shots and of whistling 
bullets outside, he thought, amid his 
prayers, of his sons ; not two left to him 
now — only one — the lost Rudhelm. 

Meantime the peasants, well armed, 
had met the invaders, as they entered the 
village, and found themselves the supe- 
riors in numbers and strength. But the 
opposition of the savage band, so well 
practiced in desperate combat, was fierce 
and stubborn. By nightfall, however, the 
contest was decided, and the red flag was 
in the hands of the peasants who, their 
wrath still unappeased, hunted the scat- 
tered freebooters singly, like wild beasts, 
among the houses and hedge-rows of the 
village. 



40 • GOOD FRIDAY. 

Amid this fearful confusion of flight and 
pursuit, of death and dying groans, still 
lay the little garden of the cross, a peace- 
ful, quiet spot, while the silvery rays of 
the moon lighted up the cross of the Re- 
deemer. But hark ! a rustling in the 
bushes, and over the low wall springs a 
man in rapid flight ; just behind him there 
is a flash, a report, and struck by the 
deadly ball, the outlaw sinks to the ground. 
No one followed him; perhaps respect for 
the little garden kept back the pursuer, 
or perhaps, indeed, it might have been a 
second shot, which fell by the garden wall; 
I cannot tell. I only know that the quiet, 
silvery moonbeams rested as before on the 
cross of the Crucified, and at the same 
time lighted a pallid brow, from which the 
blood was falling in heavy drops. The eyes 
were feeble and dim, but they wandered 
restlessly, as if seeking something; what- 
ever the object was, that longing gaze 



THE LITTLE GARDEN" OF THE CROSS. 41 

found it, and there rested. What so at- 
tracted and held those dying eyes? It 
was the cross of our dear Saviour, lighted 
up by the moon. Before it stood roses, 
forge1>ine-nots, lilies, and rosemary; but 
close, close to the foot of the cross, and 
thence upward to the very head of the 
symbol, twined an ivy-vine, clinging 
firmly as it climbed. Thereon rested the 
eyes of the dying man. Deadly pallor 
spread over his features, and the feeble 
pulse seemed scarcely to throb, but hour 
after hour passed, and still death came 
not. God's all-pitying grace had a work 
yet to accomplish ere life should depart. 
He alone knoweth what passed in the soul 
of the dying man ; the bright moon itself, 
which seemed peacefully watching him 
from above, could only have seen the 
wounded head bend to the earth, and the 
white lips move, till at last the weak arm 
clasped the foot of the cross. Yes, it was 



42 GOOD FRIDAY. 

the same arm which had planted that ivy- 
twig, little then, and without a root, which 
no one thought would grow. Koses, and 
lilies, and the other flowers, had since 
bloomed, year after year ; the ivy alone 
bloomed not, but it had clung closely to 
the cross, and climbed upward and hung 
thereon. Did the fervent prayers of 
Father Holbert bring from Heaven the 
dew of love which kept the little vine 
alive ? 

It was the hour of grace for Eudhelm ; 
no more forsaken, he did not long pray 
alone ; behind him the white-haired man 
stepped forth from the cottage, and raising 
his hands heavenward, said, as once on 
Good Friday long ago : 

"I thank Thee, Lord, for Thou wilt 
not, that any of Thy creatures shall be 
lost." 

So the father's loving arms once more 
received his son, and in his old home he 



THE LITTLE GARDEN" OF THE CROSS. 43 

tended him with watchful care, until it 
pleased the Lord of grace to give the pen- 
itent young man a blessed and peaceful 
departure, such as He ever grants to sin- 
ners who repent and turn unto Him. Even 
with grateful joy did Father Holbert stand 
by the death-bed of this, his last son, where 
also knelt the daughters, with Elizabeth's 
little sons, Gottlieb and Treumund. It 
seemed as though all his children were 
once more around him, for " according to 
his faith,'' had it been done unto him ; and 
he now saw, what he had ever believed ; 
that it was the Lord's will that none ot 
his dear ones should be lost. 

Not long did the old man's pious soul 
inhabit the frail and weary body; and 
before he closed his eyes in death, he ex- 
pressed a wish to be buried in the little 
garden. There he now reposes, near the 
spot where his warmest love dwelt ; the 
cross of the crucified Saviour. Eoses, 



44 GOOD FRIDAY. 

lilies, and the other flowers still bloom 
there in all their loveliness ; but the ivy 
climbs ever higher and thicker, telling 
summer and winter, to all who will hear 
it, the precious story of the love of the 
Saviour, so rich in grace, who will not 
that the sinner shall be lost. 

Good Friday and the cross with all its 
clustering memories ever point us to the 
saving grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
for all who cling by faith to Him! 




^ 



¥ 



ASTER 



THE RESURRECTION MORXIXG. 

IT was the Saturday between Good Fri- 
day and Easter Sunday ; that twilight 
day upon which the shades of death 
would still rest unbroken, but for .the first 
light of the Resurrection Morning, which 
we seem already to see in the East. A 
day, dear children, full of sorrow, yet full 
of hope, like the soul of man, when the 
light of grace is first dawning upon it, with 
the promise of deliverance from the dark- 
ness of sin. 

The day itself, too, was like twilight. 
The gray light of early morning still lin- 
gered, although it was now mid-day, and 

45 



46 EASTER. 

the earth was gloomy and cheerless, for 
thick clouds hung their mourning drapery 
about the sun. The force of the March 
i storm, under which the earth had trem- 
bled during Good Friday, had indeed 
abated at midnight, but it still swept in fit- 
ful gusts over the bare fields, and wailed in 
dirge-like tones between the high houses, 
and through the angular streets of the 
city which is the scene of our story. It 
was yet early in the year, and although 
Spring had already looked down with her 
bright eyes, and with friendly sunshine 
had called forth many gay blossoms, she 
seemed to-day to have taken flight ; and 
the few who ventured abroad, hastened 
their steps to place the kindly shelter of 
the house-door between themselves and 
the cutting wind. 

The city of which we speak was quite 
an old one, and had a grave and reverend 
appearance, like all that survives to tell 






THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 47 

us the story of past centuries. But there 
were streets in it through which it sad- 
dened one's heart to pass, they were so nar- 
row and dark, and it was so easy to see that 
Misery and Poverty, rather than joyous 
Life, made their home there. 

In one of those little streets stood a 
high, but half-ruined house, whose upper 
stories were so dilapidated that they could 
not be occupied. Indeed, one would have 
supposed that the house had no inmates 
at all, if the light of two dim candles in 
the room next to the entrance door, had 
not striven feebly with the gloomy day- 
light. But even here there was no sign of 
active life; ah, no! it was rather the 
chamber of death. In the middle of the 
floor, on wooden stools, stood a coffin, by 
which burned two candles; those still 
watchers of the dead, which by their grad- 
ually failing light, repeat to us that oft- 
learned lesson, that the earthly life of 



48 EASTER. 

man is like a little flame, soon to be ex- 
tinguished; coming with every passing 
moment nearer to its close. 

Was there, then, no one to weep over 
this coffin, and to look with a survivor's 
agony for the moment when it should be 
borne away ? Ah ! yes, there was one in 
that room ; a broken-hearted mourner in- 
deed, though but a very little girl. It 
was little Magdalene, standing alone and 
silent by the coffin of her mother. 

The poor child had shed so many tears 
that she could scarcely weep any more. 
Almost all her recollections of her mother, 
were of her sickness ; by her bed of pain, 
Magdalene's childhood had passed with- 
out many joys; yet the little heart had 
been warmed and cheered every morning 
by the lovelight in her mother's eyes. But 
during this last winter the poor mother 
had suffered so much that the dim eyes 
and sorrowful features seemed no longer 



THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 49 

able to smile, though her heart still burned, 
as she lay there helpless, with anxious 
love for her child. Her grief was silent 
and wasting ; and if any one chanced to 
visit the little chamber — physician, nurse, 
or a distant relative, who came, indeed, 
seldom, but still once in a while — little 
Magdalene ever heard it said that her 
mother would die. She prayed often and 
earnestly for her, but only that the good 
Lord would take away her terrible pain, 
for it was that which filled her little heart 
with such bitter sorrow; and now the 
Lord had granted her petition, and the 
sick woman slumbered peacefully, in eter- 
nal rest from suffering ; but the child did 
not yet apprehend that; she only realized 
for the first time the presence of that death 
of which she had so often heard, and sank 
altogether under the fearful certainty. 
Motionless and silent, and at last even 
without tears, she had passed the days 



50 EASTER. 

since that first terrible moment ; she had 
looked on silently, when a black cover 
was laid over the beloved face ; she had 
listened without emotion, when the rela- 
tive, a severe woman, whom she could not 
love, told her that she would take her 
home with her. Only when the attempt 
to lead her away had really been made, 
she had opposed it so earnestly, and en- 
treated so piteously, "Let me stay!" that 
at last the poor motherless child had been 
left alone. 

And now came the dark-looking men, 
whose business it was to bear away the 
dead body to the church-yard. Few neigh- 
bors walked in the little procession ; the 
poor woman had come to this strange 
street, a widow, and alone with her only 
child ; soon she had lain down upon the 
sick bed, from which she never again rose. 
The friends of earlier and happier days 
were afar, or dead, or had forgotten her ; 



THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 5i 

so that only the relative, who, without 
love, and with grudging hand, had dealt 
out the paltry support on which she and 
her little daughter had lived, appeared as 
a 'mourner. Yet one heart followed 
the coffin, which, young as it was, bore 
a world of sorrow for the dead. It was 
the little Magdalene, who would not be 
separated from her mother, and who stole 
quietly along after the men who were 
carrying her away, until they came to 
the church-yard, and had laid her in the 
grave. * 

It was with only a silent prayer, — for 
we will hope that those men, who stood 
with heads uncovered, beside the grave, 
were really praying, — that the poor 
woman was laid to rest. Magdalene 
closed her eyes; she could not look into the 
open grave ; it seemed as though all hope, 
all happiness had forever vanished from 
her, — for those dull, hollow sounds that 



52 EASTER. 

she heard, were of the earth that fell on 
her mother's coffin-lid. Unheeded by- 
those who stood around, she sank uncon- 
scious behind a grave, — and when she 
awoke from that stupor of grief, all were 
gone, and the wind was sweeping dismally 
over the lonely grave-yard. 

On the spot where they had buried her 
mother, rose a hillock of black earth, on 
which, black as the earth itself, stood a 
plain cross. Oh, what an unspeakably 
sad sight for Magdalene ! She sat down 
on the grave, pressed her little face to 
the cold earth, and felt as if her heart 
must break, until at last God gave her tears 
again, — tears that could not be repressed. 
Then she observed, not far distant, another 
newly-made grave, but much smaller; 
and Magdalene understood that a child 
was buried there. Some one was kneeling 
by that grave, also : it was a man in black 
clothing, with pale, gentle features. He 



THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 53 

wiped his eyes as he arose, and went 
away without having noticed Magdalene. 

" Oh," cried she, in her despairing grief, 
" Oh, darling mother, if I could lie down 
here too, beside thee ! if that only were 
my grave !" 

Then, in sudden terror, she imagined 
that Death was looking on her from all 
the graves that surrounded her, while he 
held her mother fast, fast in his cold arms, 
and with the mother, all that little Mag- 
dalene had ever known of joy or comfort 
in life, — never more to be restored to her. 
She sprang up, and fled affrighted from 
the silent, lonely church-yard, never 
slacking her pace until she found herself 
in the street, among the living. But all 
passed her by, for their thoughts and looks 
were engrossed by other objects than the 
little forsaken maiden, whom none knew. 
Little Magdalene's steps at last became 
more and more slow; she had recollected 



54 EASTER. 

that she must think of a home and shelter 
for the future, — and as the house of her 
unkind relative rose before her thoughts, 
she felt an uneasy foreboding of trouble 
and pain awaiting her. From this feeling 
she could not free herself; — it pursued 
her until at last, her fear of entering that 
house became so great, that she stood 
still in the street, looking around, as if 
seeking shelter or deliverance. 

" They will look for me !" she said to 
herself — "they will take me back to her! 
Oh, help me, good God ! I am terribly 
afraid !" 

Now she noticed that high dark walls 
were near her, which towered, with sky- 
pointing spires, far above all the sur- 
rounding buildings. It was the cathedral ; 
it stood like a refuge and defence for all 
around it ; and as the thought occurred 
to Magdalene, that they might be search- 
ing for her, she involuntarily drew back 



THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 55 

into the shadow of its walls. Then she 
perceived that the church door was stand- 
ing open. Magdalene had never been in 
God's house, but at this first glance into 
the open door, such a strange feeling came 
over her, as if some one were waiting for 
her within, who could soothe and protect 
her, that the little maiden entered the 
great church without hesitation. 

The light came softly into the vast 
building, through the many-colored panes 
of high Gothic windows. What a noble, 
what a glorious sight! As Magdalene 
looked around, she scarcely realized that 
she was quite alone, for all that surround- 
ed her appeared like life, in many varied 
forms, yet all blended into one, rising 
heavenward, to the high vaulted ceiling, 
from which beautiful little angel faces 
looked forth among clouds. She was, 
however, really alone ; the seats of the 
church, which were placed between 



56 EASTER. 

curious ornaments of carved Gothic work, 
were all empty ; the only breath that the 
child could hear, was the deep sigh which 
the sublime scene drew from her own lit- 
tle bosom. On she went, further and 
further, through the aisles of the church, 
stepping instinctively very lightly, not to 
disturb the solemn stillness of the place. 

Suddenly she stopped before a large 
picture, which, although the evening was 
fast coming on, was still in a clear light, 
because it hung directly opposite one of 
the high windows. The picture repre- 
sented a rocky cave, with several women 
standing before it, apparently in deep 
sorrow : — near them lay a stone with a 
broken seal, and on the stone sat the form 
of an angel, with a radiant countenance, 
and with snow-white garments flowing 
around him. Magdalene's eyes rested 
earnestly on this picture. The affliction 
of the weeping women recalled to her 



THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 57 

memory the bitter tears with which she 
herself had knelt at her mother's grave; 
yes, she was sure that this cave, also, 
must be a tomb ! but it was open ! it was 
empty ! 

" Can a grave, then, ever open ?" she 
exclaimed, and thought of the cold, silent 
mound under which her mother lay. Oh, 
how gladly would she have questioned 
the angel, at whose heavenly appearance 
the women seemed terrified, — though he 
must have been telling them something 
very glorious and beautiful, for his hand 
was raised, and his eyes shone, as with 
some wonderful intelligence. Lost in 
contemplation, our little one remained 
before the mysterious picture ; it seemed 
to her that she must abide here, if she 
would learn all that her whole soul was 
longing to know. 

Now, already, the daylight looked in 
through the windows as if with half-closed 



58 EASTER. 

eyes ; the twilight shadows deepened, and 
lay mysteriously among the colonnades 
of the church. Slowly, darkness gathered 
over the picture, till only the bright form 
of the angel glimmered forth 9 from the 
canvas. Still the child's questioning gaze 
was fixed upon it ; still she could see the 
angel's snowy robe, but not yet could she 
understand his message. She had seated 
herself upon a little bench which stood in 
the shadow of a large column opposite the 
picture ; it was in a small space enclosed 
by a lattice, which had formerly been a 
pew; and while she still watched the 
glimmer of the white robe, she fell asleep ; 
yes, sweetly asleep, though she was alone 
in the broad, high church. Yet not alone, 
for in a lovely dream the Lord sent His 
angel to her. 

It seemed to Magdalene that she sat 
again by the side of her sick mother, the 
eyes of the sufferer resting as ever, with 



THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 59 

earnest love, upon her child. It must 
have been a sweet memory that visited 
her on the wings of her dream ; for now 
she heard from those loved lips the won- 
drously beautiful story of the Resurrec- 
tion of Christ ; even as her mother had 
once related it to her. "I live, and ye 
shall live also/' Jesus had said. Those 
words her mother seemed to repeat, and 
smiled sweetly, as though she would have 
added, "So also /live, and we shall meet 
again/' Then she would have embraced 
her mother, but as she stretched her arms 
toward her, she receded farther and far- 
ther, yet still looking on the child with 
the same loving smile. But when little 
Magdalene would have risen and followed 
her, she suddenly seemed to be standing, 
as she had on the day before, weeping bit- 
terly by a silent grave ; then the angelic fig- 
ure, which had sat by the tomb of the Lord, 
approached her — the being whom her suf- 



60 EASTER. 

fering heart had questioned, without un- 
derstanding his message — and now, now 
she comprehended all ; so far her dream. 
The light finger-tips of slumber rested 
now only upon her eyelashes m u her eyes, 
already but half closed, opened quickly 
at that moment ; Magdalene was awake. 
Sunshine, golden Easter sunshine, flowed 
through the church, filling it with radi- 
ance ; rich waves of organ music, glorious 
as the roar of the sea, poured forth in a 
grand song of victory; " Christ is risen," 
sounded from a thousand voices. The 
little maiden sank on her knees, and as 
the picture of the Resurrection shone in 
the glowing rays of the Easter morning 
sun, so also was her young soul filled with 
light and glory by the faith of the Resur- 
rection. " Christ is risen," she also sang, 
recalling, by a marvel of memory, the 
words of the beautiful song, which she had 
once heard her mother read aloud. And 




Story for Easter Morning. 
' Christ is Risen'' sounded from a thousand voices, p. 60. 



THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 61 

her voice was borne upward with those of 
the thousands who were singing with her ; 
for a multitude of worshipers filled the 
church, as far as Magdalene, from her hid- 
ing place, could see. 

But now the song was hushed, and the 
attention of the devout hung breathlessly 
upon the words of the preacher, who en- 
tered the pulpit, and in language of inspir- 
ing eloquence, proclaimed the Resurrec- 
tion of our Saviour. He spoke of the 
victory, the peace, the hope of Easter 
morning. 

" Christ, arisen from the dead, hath van- 
quished death ; and we conquer with Him. 
Christ, arisen from the dead, said to His 
disciples — i Peace be with you,' and upon 
us also He sheds His peace. Christ, arisen 
from the dead, gives us the hope of eter- 
nal life ; and with it the hope of reunion 
with those we have loved and lost." 

And now the voice of the speaker be- 



62 EASTER. 

came tender and full of emotion; and 
when he recounted the loved ones whom 
God calls home to Himself, it trembled as 
with irrepressible tears. But he had 
spoken words full of power to comfort the 
heart of Magdalene, the poor little or- 
phan, and she looked up with real heart- 
felt trust to the man who seemed as con- 
fident of the joys of Heaven, as if he had 
been there. She thought sometimes that 
she had seen that pale, gentle face before, 
whose very expression was so soothing to 
her that with regret she saw him at last 
descend from the pulpit, and disappear 
from her gaze among the crowd of wor- 
shipers. Now again the organ poured 
forth its flood of harmony, and the con- 
gregation sang " Praise to Him, Death's 
mighty Conq'ror." Then from the altar 
the preacher spoke the benediction ; the 
joyful, solemn Easter blessing, elevated 



THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 63 

and sustained by which, the crowd left 
the house of God. 

Magdalene had not yet returned to the 
consciousness of her lonely condition; 
she had seemed raised above hunger and 
weakness, until now, as she was about to 
be left alone again in the mighty church, 
which the crowd of worshipers had already 
quitted. She heard the sound of a single 
step, coming along the pillared aisle; and, 
as she came out from her little hiding- 
place, she saw that it was the preacher; 
yes, she beheld again those kindly features 
on which she had looked with so much 
pleasure during the sermon. When the 
clergyman saw the little girl standing by 
the column, he stopped and looked lov- 
ingly at her, though his lips quivered sor- 
rowfully, as he said: 

" Did you come alone to church, dear 
child?" 

Then little Magdalene took courage, 



64 EASTER. 

and told him all her sad story, as she 
could have related it to none other in the 
wide world ; and while she spoke, tears 
stood in the minister's eyes. 

" I also had a child," he said ; " a little 
daughter, lovely as you are, and looking 
like you ; the Lord, who gave her to me, 
hath soon taken her away ; only yester- 
day I laid her in the grave. Little Mag- 
dalene, in you God hath given me an- 
other child ; will you be my daughter ? " 

The child clung to him, feeling that she 
could love him, as she never had loved 
any but her mother ; even as she might 
have clung to her father, had she ever 
known him. And now, too, she was cer- 
tain that this was not the first time she 
had met him ; but that he was the same 
whom she had seen bending over the 
child's grave. 

Although still young in years, the cler- 
gyman, who was a man of faith and love, 






THE RESURRECTION MORNING. 65 

a true disciple of Jesus, had drained many 
a cup of sorrow ; had borne, in the strength 
of the Lord, much grief and pain, for he 
also was alone on earth, having early fol- 
lowed all his dear ones to the grave. He 
took Magdalene to his own home, and 
from the day when God's hand thus led 
them together, these two never again sep- 
arated. 

And whenever the beloved Easter Fes- 
tival returned, they went together at the 
earliest dawn to the church-yard, and there 
at the graves of their loved ones, by the 
rising Easter sun, celebrated the Resurrec- 
tion morning. 




Weayen-Keys 



A STOEY FOE ASCENSION DAY. 

THE sun of Ascension Day was already 
giving his farewell greeting to the 
pleasant valley, so protectingly surrounded 
by green hills, and the warm May day 
had yielded to the cold freshness of eve- 
ning, when, on the top of a steep height, 
from which a slender cross looked seriously 
down into the green depth below, a cheer- 
ful little group sat engaged in familiar 
conversation. It was a mother with her 
two children, as one might be assured by 
a glance at the middle-aged woman and 
at the blue-eyed, fair-haired young crea- 
tures at her feet, upon whom she looked 
66 






A STORY FOR ASCENSION DAY. 67 

as only a mother can look at her darlings. 
And he who sat at her side, the tall man 
in black clothing, with the sonorous voice 
and the ardent heart, to which his words 
bore witness, as did the glistening sparks . 
that flashed so beautifully among the fresh 
verdure of the spring foliage to the work 
carried on in the valley below ; that man 
was the shepherd of the little flock in the 
valley, who led them in green pastures 
and by quiet waters, for — 

" There is our pastor, who is so very 
good to us," was the remark of a peasant 
in a blue blouse, who was at that moment 
leading a party of strange ladies and gen- 
tlemen up the dizzy height, near our lit- 
tle group. 

The pastor was the friend of the mother 
and her children, and had invited them 
on that pleasant festival evening, to go 
out with him into the great, wide, ver- 
dant, and blooming temple of the Lord, 



68 HEAVEN-KEYS. 

after having twice borne witness to the 
Heaven-ascended Redeemer in his stone 
church in the valley. 

Erna, the little girl, had long waited 
impatiently for a pause in the conversa- 
tion of her mother and their friend, and 
at last holding up a bunch of golden-yel- 
low cowslips, (called in that region Him- 
rnel-schluessel or Heaven-keys), she asked: 

u Dear pastor, what is the reason for 
this name of i Heaven-keys? ' 

First casting his eyes downward for a 
moment in quiet thought, the pastor 
looked quietly at Erna, and her brother 
Walter, in whose earnest eyes he read 
the same question the sister had spoken, 
and said: 

" The answer to your inquiry might fur- 
nish material for a story on our way home- 
ward. Shall I ? " he added, addressing 
the mother as she rose from her mossy 
seat. 



A STORY FOR ASCENSION DAT. 69 

"I beg for the story for myself and my 
children/' she replied. So their friend 
presently began thus : 

" It is a legend handed down to us from 
the past, and which leads us so far back 
that it is difficult to determine whether it 
springs from the soil of truth or of fable ; 
in any case it is so beautiful that one is 
not unwilling to believe it, and so touch- 
ing that it cannot but affect our hearts. 

"We all know the pleasant meadow- 
land, surrounded by thick trees, which lies 
a league from here, and is called Heaven's 
Gate. There, long before those trees were 
yet young saplings, a century before our 
grandparents had seen the light of life, a 
merry group of children played, and looked 
into the windows of the ancestral castle, 
gilded by the sunlight ; but the castle was 
then no ruin. The thoughtful Alma, the 
pastor's gentle, blue-eyed little daughter, 
was, though unconsciously, the life of this 



70 HEAVEN-KEYS. 

little party of children. Her bright, soul- 
ful eyes discovered the most beautiful flow- 
ers for their fragrant garlands ; her clear 
voice led the rest in the sweetest melo- 
dies ; from her glowing fancy sprang the 
most charming stories ; and withal, all that 
she did was most gentle and childlike. At 
times she stole away swiftly from the 
lively players, and, it would seem, went 
to some secluded place to catch fresh sun- 
light for her golden hair and blue eyes, for 
ever more lovely she came back from her 
retirement to the living garland of children 
around her. They could not long do with- 
out her, their white rose ; so with c]ui c k 
eyes her playful companions watched for 
her, and gaily welcomed her back, as at 
last she returned to them with a cluster 
of these golden stars glittering on their 
green stems. 

"Alma! come, let us play," they all 
shouted, as with one voice; but Alma 






A STORY FOR ASCENSION DAY. 71 

shook her sunny head and sat down in 
the springing grass, looking fixedly into 
the golden chalices of the starry flowers. 
Directly, as though they had silently an- 
swered some question for her, or conveyed 
some new idea to her perception, she sprang 
lightly up again, beckoned to the children 
to follow her, and, accompanied by the 
willing crowd, she hastened from the green 
meadow to an oak: which spread its knotty 
branches abroad at no great distance from 
them. Arrived under it, the children 
stopped, and Alma, standing in the midst 
of them, said with crimsoned cheek and 
fluttering breath ; 

"'Listen! I have had a dream, I was 
standing in a beautiful garden ; there were 
no roses nor lilies in it, no wall-flowers nor 
lark-spur; but from all the beds these 
golden flowers were nodding to me, and 
the paths were strewn with them, and a 
delicate figure in a white mantle was 



72 HEAVEN-KEYS. 

crowned with them ; and she came to me 
and placed a wreath on my head too, and 
said, 'Alma, this is a heavenly garden, 
and these flowers are called Heaven-keys.' 
Just as she said this she disappeared, and 
the garden too, and the whole dream ; but 
I cannot forget it ; and a little while ago, 
when I was gathering these flowers, it 
seemed to me all the while as though they 
must be telling me some secret, and so I 
listened; but they were silent, until I 
came back to you, and sat down in the 
grass with my flowers ; then it seemed as 
if something began to sound in the depth 
of their yellow cups, and told me what I 
should do. That is the reason why I 
came here, and called you to come with 
me, for now I am going to climb this oak, 
higher and higher, from one branch to 
another, until I reach the top where that 
green spray touches the soft, white cloud ; 
and I will take the prettiest of the flowers 







Story for Ascension Day. 
'These flowers are called Heaven-Keys." p. 72. 



A STORY FOR ASCENSION DAY. 73 

with me, and open Heaven with it for you 
and me ? for they are Heaven-keys, you 
know; so, then, we can all go to the lovely, 
sweet Heaven, where our dear Lord Jesus 
will watch over us, and the angels will 
play with us. I pray every evening, 
"Dear Lord make me holy, that I may 
come to Thee in Heaven." And now I 
know how I can go there, and become true 
and holy. When I have opened the gate, 
I will go right in ; if you will only stay 
here I will call and tell you how pleasant 
it is, and I will say to one of the angels : 

" I pray thee, dear angel, go down and 
bring up the other children, for the oak is 
such a steep ladder." And then we will 
play together in Heaven, and listen to the 
kind Saviour, while He tells us how we 
may become holy ; and then we will all 
give Him our hands, and say : 

"Farewell, dear Lord Jesus, we will 
soon come back." Then we will all come 



74 HEAVEN-KEYS. 

down again, and this evening when mother 
puts me to bed, and says, 'God bless thee, 
dear child/ I will put my arms round her 
neck and say, "Dear mother, now I shall 
be very holy, for I have been with the 
dear Jesus."' 

" Silent and astonished, the children 
listened to Almas words. Elsie, her dear- 
est companion, then fastened the prettiest 
blossom from her bouquet in her fair hair, 
that she might not lose it in her steep up- 
ward journey ; and with her aid the dear 
child sprang to the lowest limb, then, 
wearied already, but with great agility, 
she climbed further, now and then cast- 
ing loving, happy looks on those below. 
But — oh sorrow ! she made one false step; 
her little, delicate hands were not able to 
grasp a strong bough that offered its help 
just above her; one instant more, and the 
white rose lay pale and broken on the 
ground, by the trunk of the oak, the 



A STORY FOR ASCENSION DAY. 75 

golden star still in her streaming hair. 
The young playfellows stood weeping 
around the little child of Heaven ; but the 
mother, who had been called, knelt si- 
lently at her side. Once more the little 
creature feebly opened her eyes, sought 
with her hand for the blossom in her hair, 
folded it in her hands over her heart, 
gently moved her lips, and only the moth- 
er's listening ear caught the words, ' That 
I may come to Thee in Heaven/ One 
more breath, and all was still; Almas 
soul was with her Saviour ; her dear lit- 
tle form lay dead. Amid prayers and 
tears she was laid in the still, cool grave ; 
her father chose as his funeral text, ' Suf- 
fer little children to come unto me, for of 
such is the kingdom of Heaven.' Her 
mother planted the golden flowers on the 
little grave ; and since that time every one 
here has called them Heaven-keys." 
Here the pastor ended his story, and 



76 HEAVEN-KEYS. 

the mother's eyes were moist and shining, 
as she drew her two children nearer to 
her, while they pressed tenderly to their 
mother's side. They were passing before 
the village graveyard, just as the story of 
Alma was finished, and on nearly all the 
graves, cowslips were blooming; here 
under a white cross, there on a fresh 
mound ; in the sleeping bed of the infant 
child, as on the resting-place of the world- 
weary old man. They lingered a moment 
before the iron gate. The pastor clasped 
his hands, glanced upward, and said : 

"Lord, grant to all of us the true key 
of Heaven. Amen." 

Silently they went on, and separated 
with an affectionate pressure of the hand, 
under the shade of the lindens before the 
parsonage. But the mother and her chil- 
dren were quiet and serious all that eve- 
ning. The merry Erna cared not for jest 
or sport ; and little Walter looked as he 



A STORY FOR ASCENSION DAY. 



77 



always did at church. They both sat 
down with their mother at the house-door, 
and talked of Benno, their happy brother, 
to whom, only one year before, the Sa- 
viour had opened the door of Heaven. 



¥ 



HITSUND AY. 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 

THE lovely days of May had clothed 
the earth in its sun-bright, flower-em- 
broidered garments, and poured out all 
the wealth of Spring beauty over moun- 
tain and valley, field and plain. The 
young foliage still wore its tenderest, 
brightest green, unsullied and fresh as 
when the first sunbeam glanced upon it, 
struggling forth from its enveloping buds ; 
and the grain-fields were spread like a 
soft, green carpet over the hills which 
stretched along the margin of the river. 
78 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 79 

Who can name all the living creatures 
which breathe the delicious vernal air, 
and bear, each in its own way, their 
parts in the vast anthem of praise, earth's 
Hallelujah Chorus to the Lord ? Who 
can count the flowers, which, silently 
called forth, spring up in their loveliness 
to solemnize the new creation of Nature ? 
Ah, my children, Earth has room for end- 
less beauty and joy, — but the heart of 
man is too weak to comprehend it all, 
and seems as though it must burst with 
the pressure of newly awakened life and 

The beautiful picture of Spring, which 
we have here tried to describe, was mir- 
rored in the eyes of a boy, who sat on 
the ridge of a hill, looking thoughtfully 
into the far distance. It was little John, 
an orphan boy. The brother of his early- 
departed mother had taken him to his 
own home, to bring him up with his two 



80 WHITSUNDAY. 

sons. Mr. Siegmund, that was his uncle's 
name, loved him fondly, for he traced in 
the boy the gentle spirit of his mother, 
whose memory was dear to his heart : in- 
deed, his heart turned almost uncon- 
sciously, with more tenderness to this 
child of his sister, than to his own sons, 
by whom he had ever been less apprecia- 
ted, less beloved and respected than by 
the tender, loving little John. 

More than once, indeed, had quite dark 
clouds gathered in the sky of their house- 
hold peace, because Francis and Ferdi- 
nand looked with jealous eyes upon the 
adopted boy, who stood nearer than they 
to their father's heart. 

So far from acknowledging their lit- 
tle cousin's superiority to be the cause 
of this, they suspiciously fancied that 
he designed, by winning their father's 
affection, not only to lessen their pa- 
ternal inheritance by division with him, 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 81 

but even to supplant them entirely, and 
so Rain all for himself. 

Oh. what base, perverted thoughts does 
envy implant in the heart of man ! How 
little did they understand the pure and 
innocent mind of the orphan boy, who 
had never thought of any possession on 
earth so desirable as a loving heart ! He 
could not but see that his uncle's sons 
morosely avoided him, and sometimes 
even mocked him. and sought to distress 
him : this only made him turn the more 
lovingly to his kind uncle, leaving the 
two boys, who were much older than him- 
self, to go their own ways, without cher- 
ishing any resentful thoughts of the in- 
sults he had endured from them. 

Mr. Siegmund always had some comfort- 
ing words for him, if only Francis and Fer- 
dinand were not present. — for even he 
feared the unkind treatment of his sons, 

6 



82 WHITSUNDAY. 

though he had always been an affection- 
ate father, — only too weak and indulgent. 
Mr. Siegmund was full of kindness and 
benevolence towards all ; if those around 
him were happy, his own cheerful spirit 
rejoiced with them ; and it was ever his 
pleasure to wipe away the tears of sor- 
row. Never a day passed on which the 
needy did not seek his door ; and when 
they did not come to ask aid, his benefi- 
cence found out their needs, and many a 
warm pot of soup, and much relief, in 
money and in clothing, were carried from 
his house into the dwellings of the sick 
and the poor. In these merciful works 
John was like another pair of hands to 
him. He had a peculiar aptness for find- 
ing those who were in want, and was nev- 
er more happy than when his father, as 
he called Mr. Siegmund, entrusted any 
such commission to him. So he was fre- 
quently seen leaving the house with the 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 83 

rapid step of one bent on a pleasant er- 
rand of love, his hands never empty ; and 
so well did the neighbors know him as 
the help-bearing messenger of Mr. Sieg- 
mund, that they took pleasure in calling 
him "the Little Apostle." His cousins 
also, Francis and Ferdinand, gave him 
that name, but only in scornful mockery, 
for they thought his interest in the poor 
to be artfully assumed, in order to gain 
their father's partiality, and besides they 
were so stingy that they could not bear 
to see so much given away. 

On the day when we first met little 
'John, he was returning from a visit to a 
sick person, who lived half a league from 
the town, and to whom he had carried 
some strengthening food. It was a walk 
in which he always took particular plea- 
sure, not only because the road wound 
along so pleasantly over hills and through 
meadows, but because the old man to 



84 WHITSUNDAY. 

whom he had carried the food, was so 
dear to him. It was Father Everard, who 
had always delightful conversation, or 
beautiful stories for his young visitor, al- 
though he had long been confined to his 
bed. 

To-day it was Ascension-Day. John 
had lingered for more than an hour, and 
while the old man was eating his soup, 
had taken up the large illustrated Bible 
that lay on the table by his bed. It was 
not the first time the boy had held the 
sacred Book, while the old man related 
its histories to him : on this day he sought 
out the picture of Christ's Ascension, and* 
gazed, as if he could not bear to lose sight 
of it, at the beloved figure of the Sa- 
viour, borne away upon light clouds, van- 
ishing upward from the longing eyes of 
His disciples. 

All the events in our Lord's earthly 
history passed through the boy's mind; His 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 85 

sufferings, death and resurrection, as the 
pious Everard had related them; and 
lastly the forty days during which the 
risen Master walked with His disciples, 
those forty days which Nature still year- 
ly celebrates, adorning them with all her 
earliest loveliness. Indeed, the picture 
was one, which might well call up solemn 
and beautiful thoughts; it showed the 
Lord carried on the cloud, up toward a 
glorious ray of everlasting light, which 
broke forth from the gates of Heaven, 
opened to receive their King, now return- 
ing unto the glory of His Father, as the 
Conqueror and Ruler of the world. It 
seemed consoling to little John, when he 
thought of the bitter sufferings and death 
to which Christ's boundless love had 
brought Him down, to remember that 
the Redeemer had returned to His Father, 
and His own glorious Home, never again 
to taste the cup of sorrow, nor to suffer 



86 WHITSUNDAY. 

death by murderous hands. But when 
he looked again at the disciples, and saw 
how sorrowfully they gazed after their 
Lord, it appeared to him that the pain 
of their loneliness must have been some- 
thing like that of a weak child, when its 
mother's tender supporting arm is with- 
drawn. He said so, in simple, childish 
language, to his old friend, who replied : 

"Once, when the Lord had foretold His 
departure to His disciples, and their hearts 
were full of sorrow at His words, He said, 
c If I go away, I will send the Comforter 
to you; the Spirit of Truth, who will 
guide you into all truth.' Then He added, 
'I have yet many things to say unto you, 
but ye cannot bear them now.' How is 
it, my little John," continued Everard ; 
"can you bear them yet? But the day 
will come for you as for the disciples ; ah, 
my son, I should love dearly to keep Whit- 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 87 

Sunday with you/' and the old man's eyes 
grew bright and earnest. 

"Good Everard, tell me these things, 
for I do not know them/' answered the 
boy; "yes, I will come again on Whit- 
sunday, and then you will explain this to 
me." 

" Knowledge, interpretation," said the 
old man, half to himself, shaking hie head 
thoughtfully ; "yes, come again, but soon ; 
for my days are almost numbered." 

Little John's thoughts were still dwell- 
ing on this conversation, when he looked 
from the hill where we first saw him at 
the sunset. The horizon was like a sea of 
fire, in which the sun's last rays were al- 
ready disappearing. Clouds had rolled 
together to veil his departure, and sur- 
rounded him as with a gold-bordered dia- 
dem. John thought of the Ascension of 
the Lord, but as yet he saw only the clouds 
in which He had disappeared, and not the 



88 WHITSUNDAY. 

bright crown which He reaches forth from 
above to His own. 

Scarcely two days had passed, when 
John again visited Father Everard's cot- 
tage. The old man's strength was fast 
failing, but he still smiled pleasantly when 
he saw the boy, and said, pointing to the 
Bible, which lay open before him : 

"You see I was expecting you." 

Then he asked John to read the second 
chapter of Acts, in which St. Luke de- 
scribes the pouring out of the Holy Spirit ; 
and himself added the history of the min- 
istry and miracles of the Apostles. The 
boy was deeply moved by the recital. 

"Oh," cried he, "if I could but follow 
the good Apostles, that by me too the Lord 
would add to the Church such as should 
be saved." 

" It is the gift of God," returned the 
old man ; " but he who receives does so 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 89 

that he may give it again. Be still be- 
fore the Lord, John, your hour will come." 

But John was absorbed in his own 
thoughts. A wish for the future had been 
formed in his heart ; a purpose which, 
from that time, he never gave up. As 
soon as he reached home, his thoughts 
arose to his lips, and his good uncle learned 
his ardent desire to devote himself to sa- 
cred studies, so that he might become a 
servant of the Word, to proclaim the pre- 
cious gospel. 

But where the Lord is pleased to bestow 
the might of His Spirit, there He first 
breaks the reigning power of self; and so 
little John must first pass through bitter tri- 
als before he could be comforted with that 
joy of the Holy Ghost, which should abide 
with him thenceforward forever. Several 
days after, as he was returning from an- 
other visit to Father Everard, he met Mr. 
Siegmund, who appeared much agitated. 



90 WHITSUNDAY. 

When John anxiously inquired the cause, 
his uncle answered him in a rough tone, 
quite unusual with him, but only assumed 
to conceal his deep emotion : 

" John, the peace of my house is gone ; 
we must part." 

A sad scene had taken place during 
Johns absence. Francis and Ferdinand 
had heard of his desire to devote himself 
to the holy ministry, and at once imagined 
this to be an artful design of his to raise 
himself above them ; besides, the idea of 
the great expense his education would re- 
quire, filled them with spite and ill-will. 
They urged their weak father with re- 
proaches and threats, until he yielded 
and promised that John should be bound 
as apprentice in another town, to learn a 
trade as his own father had done. 

The poor boy stood as if struck dumb, 
when he heard all this from his kind bene- 
factor, and found that in a few days he 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 91 

must leave his home to learn his father's 
trade. 

Poor John ; all his bright hopes were 
gone. But now he had imagined himself a 
servant of the Church ; a preacher of the 
Word ; and this must be given up, and he 
must leave his kind, fatherly protector, for 
the dark workshop of a shoemaker. His 
heart seemed almost broken ; he sought 
in vain for comfort. But while he wept 
silently, alone by the window of his own 
little room, he thought of the words of his 
gray-haired friend : 

" Be still before the Lord, John." 
Whitsunday came, and joy seemed 
spread over all the earth. The butterfly 
flitted from flower to flower, and, with still 
richer delight, the lark soared toward 
heaven. But one came forth from the 
dark prison of city-life, by whom all Na- 
ture's loveliness seemed unperceived, for 
his downcast eyes were often filled with 



92 WHITSUNDAY. 

blinding tears. It was John ; and he was 
going to take leave of Father Everard, for 
on the next day he was to leave Mr. Sieg- 
mund's house. As he entered the house 
a kind woman, who was nursing the old 
man, met him with a sad look, and said : 

" Go in, my good boy, and take my place 
for the next hour ; his end cannot be far 
distant." 

John went to the bedside ; the old man 
could not move ; but his eyes beamed with 
pleasure, and with a sweet, peaceful smile, 
he said : 

" See, my son, we shall still keep Whit- 
sunday together." 

Silently, but full of sympathy, he lis- 
tened to the orphan boy's story of his dis- 
appointment and trouble j then he said to 
him : 

"John, those whom the Holy Spirit 
leadeth, are the children of God ; can you 
desire more ? Pray for His Spirit, so shalt 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 93 

thou receive from His fulness, grace for 
grace. Do not wish to anticipate God's 
time ; for the fruit of the Spirit is not only 
love, joy, and peace, but also patience. 
Pray with me for the Pentecostal blessing, 
my son ; pray in humility and faith ; the 
Lord will not refuse your petition." 

The window of the little room was open, 
and the blossom-laden branches of the 
apple tree that overshadowed the cottage, 
waved into the chamber of death. The 
gentle fragrance of Spring pervaded its 
atmosphere, while, hidden in the topmost 
boughs of the tree, a nightingale sang in 
soft, mellow notes. During the quiet hour 
of prayer, her song was hushed, and not 
until the stars appeared in the twilight did 
it commence again, soft and clear as ever, 
before the window of the dying old man. 

Not much earlier than this had John 
left his friend's side ; and what gift those 
last hours had brought for him; how the 



94 WHITSUNDAY. 

Spirit of the Lord had been poured out 
upon him ; ah ! my children, what words 
can express this holy mystery? But 
clothed with power from on high, the boy 
left the cottage, and when hp reached his 
home, all wondered to see his countenance 
shine with such quiet inward joy. 

Two or three days had passed, and John 
was now no more in his uncle's house, his 
childhood's home. He had left without 
bidding farewell to Mr. Siegmund, for 
when he went to take leave of him, he 
found his door locked. But when he 
unpacked the few things he had brought 
with him to his master's house, he found 
among them a Bible and hymn-book, and 
recognized his uncle's hand in the trem- 
bling lines in which his name was written 
in them. 

Mr. Siegmund's neighbors looked in 
vain for the " Little Apostle ;" the poor 
waited longer than ever before at his 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 95 

door ; and he himself, who had ever been 
so cheerful, was now often gloomy and 
sad. His sons both became merchants, 
and lived near their father ; but since 
they had driven away his little John, 
their mutual confidence was almost de- 
stroyed. After some time, the boy was 
removed to a town still more distant, to 
the care of another master. It was said 
that this also was through his cousins' 
interference ; worse still, the letters that 
he wrote to his fatherly benefactor, sel- 
dom reached him. So passed a number 
of years, during which he never returned 
to his old home, and at last, but few re- 
membered "the Little Apostle," whom 
they had formerly taken such pleasure 
in seeing. 

•1m ml* »i* •!* *!• •!» 

•*• 9^9 mjm »^ mj* •£• 

In the year 1832, the Asiatic Cholera 
first visited the northern part of Germany. 
Its appearance was the herald of Death, 



96 WHITSUNDAY. 

and all horrors were in its train, but most 
terrible of all was the shuddering fear 
which made the earth seem a vast char- 
nel house, and the living like walking 
corpses. We follow the disease into the 
town which has been the scene of our sto- 
ry. Over it also had spread those horrors 
which, like an inexorable judgment, had 
travelled from -East to West. After the 
people had long watched its gradual ap- 
proach with constantly increasing anxie- 
ty, one morning the fearful words were 
suddenly heard : 

" The Cholera is here !" and like a 
band of iron, under which ruddy Life 
whitens, stiffens, and at last grows cold 
in Death, the news fell upon the whole 
town. 

An awful stillness reigned. Scarcely 
dared any one leave his house ; each 
dreaded to greet his neighbor, lest in so 
doing, he should receive the gift of Death; 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 97 

only here and there one might see soli- 
tary figures, hurrying along, with all the 
fearfully suggestive signs of precaution 
against infection. 

In one street, particularly, no one had 
been seen since morning ; the house- 
doors were fast locked, and none looked 
from the windows : it was here the cho- 
lera had first appeared. All had been 
thus deserted from morning until noon ? 
when suddenly the sepulchral stillness 
was broken by the rapid steps of a youth, 
hastening alone in this street of death. 

Without pause or hesitation, he ap- 
proached a house at the corner of the 
street. Now he has reached the door, will 
he not shrink back ? Above it, on a black 
tablet, are the words : " The cholera is 
here !" But he does not shrink; indeed, 
he seems to have been fully prepared for 
this, for he rings impatiently, and when 
admitted, hurries past the few lonely 



98 WHITSUNDAY. 

watchers, to a well-known chamber. 
Through the darkness of the room, dim 
with the smoke of fumigation, he recog- 
nizes the sick man's features ; he opens 
his arms, and the dying Siegmund lay on 
the bosom of his John. 

The disease of which he was the first 
victim, had already almost finished its 
rapid course ; the signs of death were 
upon his features, but their stiff rigidity 
relaxed into a sweet, peaceful smile, as 
he looked once more upon the beloved 
son of his sister. So at last they met, 
these two who so dearly loved each other, 
but whom the restless spirit of Envy had 
so long separated. 

But God's Spirit is the Conqueror of all 
others, and Mr. Siegmund's last, implor- 
ing words were : 

" John, forsake not my poor sons !" 

When the young man had closed the 
eyes of his fatherly friend, and was leav- 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 99 

ing the house where he lay in the calm re- 
pose of peace, he observed two persons 
who drew back in affright as he opened 
the door. It was Francis and Ferdinand, 
who, in cowardly fear, hovered around 
the house where their father lay, without 
daring to enter. When they recognized 
"the Little Apostle/' ill-will and avarice 
again arose in their hearts, struggling with 
the fear of death, and they cast upon him 
a look of the bitterest hatred. 

" He has come at the last hour," they 
said, "to steal away our inheritance." 
Ah, they little suspected that their dying 
father had entreated John for their sake, 
that he, truly rich in the Spirit of the 
Lord, would have pity on their poverty. 

»j> «j» »j» *f» »i> *j> 

It was on Ascension-Day 18 — , that a 
crowd of people thronged the streets near 
the river, in the city of Bremen. An 
emigrant ship was to sail at noon, and 



100 WHITSUNDAY. 

no observing eye could watch without in- 
terest, the various groups gathered there. 
It seems to me that the lot of the emi- 
grant is one of perpetual sorrow ; it is as 
though one should tear a tree by its roots 
from the ground, to plant it, all uncertain 
of its thriving in a strange region. But 
the many different countenances gathered 
around this ship, did not, generally, wear 
an expression of sadness ; one might see 
rather indifference, expectation, or rest- 
lessness, painted there ; but then, the sor- 
rowful moment when the home shore dis- 
appears from the gaze, had not yet come. 
Some powerful, mysterious, though far 
distant, attraction must have beckoned 
onward this crowd of people. There were 
grey-haired men, whose years must have 
been almost numbered, who yet turned 
westward with looks of anticipation; 
there were young mothers, who fearlessly 
confided themselves and their tender, del- 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 101 

icate infants to the rough elements, will- 
ingly exchanging their native hearth, for 
uncertain happiness in a foreign country. 

Among these varied groups was one 
countenance, which attracted frequent at- 
tention. It was that of a young man, in 
plain black dress, with fair hair, parted 
above his forehead, and delicate features, 
wearing an expression of peace and joy. 
He was the centre of a little group, who 
were listening with earnest attention to 
his words. They were those in whose 
eyes tears of regret stood, and whose 
hearts beat ever more painfully, as the 
hour of departure drew near. 

" Who is the young man, that is talk- 
ing with those emigrants ?" asked one by- 
stander of another. 

"He is a missionary," was the reply. 
"I heard him relate his story a little 
while ago. It is not long since he was a 
sinrple shoemakers apprentice. He won 



102 WHITSUNDAY. 

the affection of a clergyman in the town 
where he lived, who instructed him, and 
assisted him in carrying out his design of 
devoting himself to the ministry. By 
this clergyman's aid, he went to Basle, to 
prosecute his studies, and now he is going 
out in the emigrant ship to North Ameri- 
ca, in order to be sent thence as a mission- 
ary to China." 

The embarkation had now begun. The 
given signal, the roar of a cannon, burst 
forth from the ship, and the first boat 
pushed off from the land, followed by 
many parting salutations. It was long be- 
fore the gangway was clear of the ascend- 
ing passengers. Just as the last seemed 
to have entered, a boat, which had been 
detained, was hastily moved up alongside 
of the ship. 

Two men stepped from it, followed 
by a young woman, with a child in her 
arms. The young man, pointed out as a 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 103 

missionary, had been standing by the 
head of the gangway, watching those 
entering the vessel, with great attention. 

But as this last boat lay by the ship, 
and its passengers came from it, a sudden 
paleness overspread his face, and, as if he 
would conceal it, he bowed over the side 
of the deck, toward the swelling waves. 
But tears arose to his eyes, and a slight 
motion of his lips permitted one to sus- 
pect whither his spirit had directed itself. 

Favoring Avinds carried the vessel in 
the shortest possible time, across the 
channel, past the English coast, and out 
into the wide open sea. Then a calm en- 
sued. A sky in which, as far as the eye 
could reach, no cloud could be perceived, 
spread out above the ocean ; and the sails 
hung loosely from the mast. 

This, however, did not continue long. 
By morning, the air seemed filled with a 
strange, confused sound, while the plain of 



104 WHITSUNDAY. 

the sea still lay motionless : the crew were 
stirring restlessly to and fro, while the cap 
tain s glass was steadily directed towards 
a place in the horizon from which a high 
cloud was rising. The cloud formed itself 
into a dark column, which spread out 
broader and broader, above the waters, 
and scarcely had the words: " We shall 
have a storm !" been pronounced, when the 
vessel was flying along, more and more 
rapidly as the wild tossing of the billows 
increased. At this intelligence, a cry of 
terror sounded through the hold, where 
the emigrants had crowded closely to- 
gether for shelter. 

But the howling of the storm, and the 
raging of the deep, soon drowned every 
complaint. One moment they were borne 
high on the foaming crest of a wave, with 
a deep, black abyss yawning before them, 
into which the roaring hurricane seemed 
to plunge itself, as though it must reach 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 105 

the very bottom of the sea; and in the next 
instant, the unfortunate vessel swung down 
after it into the fearful gulf. But quick- 
ly the storm seized it as with a mighty 
hand, and set it on high, when the dash- 
ing wave seemed to flutter and foam in 
the very face of the heavens. 

The poor ship seemed only the forlorn 
prey, over which the monsters of the deep 
roared and fought. Then through the 
black night of clouds, quivered a flash of 
lightning, and a second followed it, the 
cleft mainmast fell upon the deck, and 
flames burst forth in the stern of the ves- 
sel. 

Oh, how frightful was this tumult of 
elements, warring among themselves, but 
all united against those miserable beings, 
who climbing from plank to plank, con- 
tended for life until the last moment ! 
Who can paint their misery, what words 
can express their desperation ? 



106 WHITSUNDAY. 

Amid all these deathly horrors, the 
figure of the missionary was seen cling- 
ing closely to the forward mast. The 
young man's eyes glowed with spiritual 
light ; his words, the words of prayer, 
died away unheard, but he spoke to the 
little party who crowded closely around 
awaiting death with him, in looks that 
told the victory of faith. Then came a 
mighty wave, that seemed about to take 
the very heavens by storm ; it cast the 
ship on a sand-bank, and itself falling on 
the blazing part, extinguished the flame. 
But at the same instant, a sound, like a 
far-off, wailing cry, rolled through the 
storm ; it was the death-shriek of more 
than a hundred unfortunates, who swept 
from the deck, found their grave in the 
flood. 

Then the youth, forgetting his own 
peril, raised both hands toward Heaven, 
as though he must bring thence, pity for 




Story for Whitsuntide. 
'Were floating over the wide, lonely ocean." p. 107 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 107 

the souls struggling in death, and from 
his lips resounded the cry, "Corne, Holy 
Spirit !" And the storm bore the words 
upon its wings, and high in the air, and 
low in the deep, amid the dying, re-echoed 
the prayer, "Come, Holy Spirit!" 

On the following dav, the emigrant 
ship was a forsaken wreck, washed by the 
waves ; but the little company who were 
saved from death, had entrusted them- 
selves to a small boat, and were floating 
over the wide, lonely ocean. They were 
about twenty in number, and among them 
was the youthful missionary. 

I need scarcely say, that in him we have 
found John once more, "the Little Apos- 
tle," to whom Father Everard had once 
said, "Be still before the Lord, John, 
thine hour will come !" 

Francis and Ferdinand, who, discon- 
tented with themselves and with all that 
surrounded them, had left their home as 



108 WHITSUNDAY. 

emigrants, and by God's providence had 
been led to the same vessel with John, 
had not recognized him. They knew no- 
thing of the change in his circumstances, 
and, therefore, were far from expecting to 
find him in the missionary, whom during 
their journey they had studiously avoided, 
because his countenance, by some strange, 
but to them unaccountable resemblance, 
seemed to convey to their consciences a 
continual reproach. 

But the hour of recognition had come. 
The young wife of Ferdinand had per- 
ished in the storm, and Death had 
stretched forth his hand to seize the 
brothers also, but at the last moment, 
they had been drawn almost senseless, 
into the boat. When the younger brother 
again opened his eyes, the missionary, 
with a look of unspeakable love, laid the 
child whom he himself had saved into his 
arms. 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. 109 

The burning tears which Francis and 
Ferdinand shed before him whom they 
had once so bitterly hated, he pleaded as 
offerings of penitence, in silent interces- 
sion before God. " John, forsake not my 
unhappy sons !" had been the dying fath- 
er's entreaty, and the Lord had enabled 
the young man to fulfill the promise he 
had made. 

Three days passed, and the boat still 
floated lonely upon the sea ; the little crew 
had no food to sustain life ; but John ever 
soothed them with the precious words of 
the Gospel, and the Spirit of God was 
with him. 

At last a white sail glimmered in the 
horizon. An hour of fearful suspense 
followed. The ship of which they had 
just caught a glimpse seemed to direct her 
course from them, and they were still 
desolate and forsaken. But the watch- 
ful eye of God was upon them, and the 



110 WHITSUNDAY. 

moment of deliverance was not far dis- 
tant. 

The wind now suddenly changed, and 
very soon the ship was so near, that they 
could communicate by signs with those on 
board of her. A boat sent off from her, 
soon took up the shipwrecked party, and 
brought them on board; she proved to 
be an English merchant-vessel, bound for 
New York. Enfeebled almost to the 
point of death, they needed, and received 
careful nursing ; and favorable winds soon 
brought them safely to their " desired ha- 
ven. 

Several years since, Francis and Ferdi- 
nand wrote to some friends in Germany, 
that they were established as merchants 
in New Orleans, with a moderate compe- 
tence ; but the letter was written in so 
cheerful a tone, that one might have be- 
lieved they had found some great treasure 
there. Any one who is acquainted with 



THE LITTLE APOSTLE. Ill 

their history, however, must know that it 
was the Spirit of the Lord which had 
brought them reconciliation, peace and 
joy, and thus, though they were poor, had 
made them rich. Of their " brother John," 
whom they mentioned with cordial affec- 
tion, they had once received intelligence 
from China; he had written to them joy- 
fully that the Lord was daily adding to 
His Church such as should be saved. 

This, my children, is the history of 
"the Little Apostle" — a story of the Spir- 
it of the Lord. May it add to your plea- 
sure in the Whitsuntide festival ! But 
know this, too ; that this is not the first 
time in this book that we find the Spirit 
of the Lord ; for it was that Spirit 
which sanctified the Christmas Eve for 
Anthony and Marietta, that raised the 
soul of the dying Rudhelm to the cross of 



112 



WHITSUNDAY. 



Christ, and taught little Magdalene the 
cheering Resurrection faith. 

Pray, pray for this, above all other 
gifts, for you must be sure of this truth, 
which, as the great lesson of this book, 
may well be its closing words : " No 
man can call Jesus Christ Lord, except 
through the Holy Ghost !" 




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